From Boy to Man
by Independence Undervalued
Summary: Throughout the course of Steve Randle's life, several key events shaped him on his journey. He suffered both triumph and defeat. He gained and he lost. But most importantly, he grew up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I'm actually quite excited about this story. I think it'll be fun to write a Steve fic for a change. It's looking like a seven or eight chapter story right now. I hope you enjoy it as much as I am writing it(:

With regards to my other stories, those will depend on whether or not I can get my documents back. As of right now, _Life After You_ is on indefinite hiatus and _My Darkest Days_ should be finished shortly. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Finally, there's a poll on my page. Please check it out and let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

* * *

**Birth**

Steve James Randle was born on an overcast afternoon on the fifteenth of April. Tom could barely contain his joy as he gazed down at the tiny bundle in his wife's arms. Sarah Jane hummed quietly to her son, rocking him gently as he slept against her chest. A proud smile spread across her face as she gazed up at her husband.

"Isn't he perfect?"

"He really is, sweetheart."

As the proud parents lovingly watched their child, Steve opened his little eyes and Sarah gasped at the bright green irises staring up at her. Tom felt his heart crack when they realized that their tiny baby boy had inherited his mother's eyes and his father's thickly curled hair.

Wrapped his tiny hand around his finger, Tom whispered to the baby. "Hi there, Stevie. I'm your daddy and this here is your mama. We love you so very much, baby."

With a gentle kiss on his forehead, Steve yawned before settling back against his mother and drifting off. His parents stood watch over him for hours, cooing and coddling as their precious bundle slept. It was the beginning of their dream family.

XxX

**Age Six**

It was the first day of kindergarten and Steve was raging. His mother had combed his hair to one side and dressed him in a nice shirt, fussing over how cute he looked. Sitting in the backseat of the family car, he sat in with his trademark scowl firmly in place. He hated dressing nice. He hated _looking _nice. Yet as the small school came into view, a new worry overcame the old one.

New kids.

Steve didn't make friends easily. He kept to himself, but even at a young age made it very clear that he was unafraid of fighting. Back in Muskogee, Steve made enemies very quickly with the neighbor boys. The twins that lived next door spent much of their time teasing Steve and throwing rocks over the fence at him. He had silently taken much of the abuse until the bigger of the boys, Cole, finally pushed him too far. Cole stole Steve's pride and joy - his bicycle. When Steve spotted the boy riding down the street, sneering the entire time, he chased him down and fought him for it. So when Tom's company asked if he would be willing to take a new position in Tulsa, Steve and his parents happily moved.

But now, from his place in their car, Steve couldn't find one good thing about Tulsa or its school. He glared sullenly at the children running and laughing on the playground, angry with them all for no reason in particular.

Before he could really anchor himself into the seat, his mother was there smiling at him and speaking softly as she undid the seatbelt. "Oh Stevie, you're going to love it here. Look at all of the nice little boys and girls you'll have to play with."

"Have a great day, kiddo," his dad called from the driver's seat, a grin on his face.

Steve grumbled unhappily and slowly climbed out of the car, grabbing his mother's hand without thinking twice. It was a source of comfort and warmth and Steve unashamedly clung to it.

"What if they don't like me, Ma?" The words slipped out before he could stop them and he felt his eyes widen.

Kneeling down so she could look him in the eyes, Sarah smiled gently. "Steve, you just go in there and be yourself. You're going to be just fine and you'll make plenty of new friends, okay? Just be the sweetheart I know and love. Will you do that for me?"

Groaning, Steve rolled his eyes. Leave it to Mom to make it mushy, he thought. Yet he couldn't help but feel a bit reassured. If she said it would be alright, it had to be. Right? Mom's can't lie, he told himself as they started walking in the building. Repeating that thought over and over, Steve found himself walking into a classroom filled with kids.

"Miss Daniels?"

A young woman with a big smile made her way over to where Steve stood awkwardly with his mother by the door. "You must be Sarah Randle! I'm Pamela Daniels, the kindergarten teacher. And you must be, Steve." She knelt down and held out her hand, letting Steve shake it gently.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he whispered, trying to disappear completely into the folds of his mother's skirt.

"Go on, Stevie. You have yourself a great day and we will see you this afternoon, alright?"

With one last hug and a quick kiss, his mother disappeared back out of the room and left Steve alone. A sudden, overwhelming panic crept up his throat and Steve wanted to run. The only thing that kept him in place was the hand on his shoulder as Miss Daniels steered him towards his seat.

"Here you are, Steve. You can sit with these boys, alright? To start the morning, we're just coloring these activity sheets for a little while," Miss Daniels said, smiling gently at him before walking around the room and checking on the other tables of children.

At the table with him sat three other boys. One of them was a tall and thin kid, a sneer plastered on his face and the boy sitting beside him was quiet, with dark hair. The boy sitting next to Steve was quietly coloring on the back of the activity sheet, drawing a neat picture of a pony. As Steve pulled out a box of new crayons, the tallest kid started snickering quietly and pointed a red crayon in the direction of Steve's neighbor.

"Hey, kid. What'd you say your name was again?"

The boy beside him smiled nervously before replying. "Well, it's Sodapop. M-my big brother calls me Soda, though."

The dark haired boy and the tall one burst into mean snickers as Sodapop's face fell. Why were they pickin' on him, anyhow, Steve wondered.

"Well what's your names," Steve retorted, crossing his small arms. He felt Soda's eyes on him, but kept his gaze locked on the boy across from him.

"My name's Bobby and he's Randy," the tall one answered, his eyes narrowing.

Steve snorted and shook his head. "Man, those are some stupid names. And you were laughin' at _him_?"

Unsure of what to do, Bobby and Randy simply looked at one another silently. Steve nodded his head, satisfied, before turning to the quiet boy beside him. "That's a neat picture you got there, Sodapop. You're a real good draw-er."

A bright smile met his praise. "You really think so? Thanks! I always wanted a pony. But my folks can't hardly buy us a dog, so I know we can't get a pony. So I just draws 'em."

"Well it looks real neat."

The boys turned back to their work and as the morning wore on, Steve found himself hanging around with Sodapop more and more. By the time recess rolled around, the two boys were building mountains in the sandbox together.

"Hey," Sodapop said as they worked. "Thanks for, you know, not makin' fun of my name 'efore. Them other boys ... they don't like me, I don't think."

"Ah, don't worry 'bout them," Steve said with a wave of his hand. "They ain't important. We're buddies now anyways, so if they're mean 'er somethin', I'll talk to 'em."

Soda grinned and patted his sand creation. "Thanks, man. Hey, what's your name?"

"Steve. Steve Randle."

XxX

**Age Eight**

"And you thought you could go highest on the swings? No way, Stevie!" Soda laughed, kicking his feet harder and getting more and more distance between him and the ground.

It was the first nice day since of the year and the boys took advantage of it, heading straight for the local playground. Several other neighborhood kids were there, including Soda's brother Darry and a few of his buddies. No one was playing on the swings when they arrived, so the duo made a beeline for it. Both had a competitive streak, so they were pushing each other to see who could end up the highest.

"Yeah? Well look at this," Steve hollered, launching himself off of the swing to the ground. "Can ya top that, Pop?"

With a smirk, Soda shoved his heels firmly into the dirt and slowed himself to a stop before stepping off. "Nah, I know I can't. I ain't gonna break my neck neither with Dar over there watchin' us."

Steve snickered and glanced over where, sure enough, Darry Curtis was looking over his shoulder ever other football play to check on his kid brother and pal. As Soda turned his attention to the monkey bars, a scuffle caught Steve's attention near the edge of the playground. There were three boys and from where he stood, Steve could tell two were ganging up on the one.

"Hey, Soda! Lookit over there!"

Soda's gaze shot over to the fight and a grin lit up his face. "Let's go help 'im out, man! That ain't a fair fight!"

Not needing any other prompting, the friends took off running towards the argument. Steve couldn't ever say no to a good fight. Even though he was still pretty young, it still got his blood pumping. His dad always taught him to stand up for what he believed in and as far as he was concerned, Steve believed that an unfair fight should be stopped.

After just a few moments, Steve and Soda reached the fighting kids and jumped in, though it became clear that the outnumbered boy was not only older than the two fighting him, but he was also fending for himself fairly well. Once the two oppressors realized that they were suddenly the odd men out, they darted off towards the woods and disappeared amidst the trees. Hooting and hollering, Steve gave Sodapop a high five. The other boy was sporting a bloody nose, but other than that he looked to be alright.

"You alright there," Soda asked, giving the boy a once over.

He shrugged and cracked a wide grin. "Fine as wine! Say, thanks for jumpin' in there. I had 'em alright, but it was more fun watchin' 'em scramble like a couple of eggs. What's your names, boys?"

As Soda introduced the two of them, Steve couldn't help but smirk. This kid sure did like to talk, but he was clever. Steve had to respect that.

"What about you? What's your name," Steve questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"Mr. Keith Mathews, at your service," he replied, bowing modestly.

"_Keith_? No way, man," Steve answered, chuckling to himself. "That just don't seem to fit at all."

Keith frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do _you_ think my name oughta be then, smartass?"

Laughing, Steve held up his hands. "Not sure yet, but when I think of it I'll letcha know."

The older boy considered it for a moment before shrugging, his good-natured smile back in place. "Alrighty then! What d'you boys say to a game of basketball?"

Steve and Soda shrugged and followed their new pal to the courts, hiding their amusement as he snatched another boy's basketball while he was chatting with a friend. It wouldn't come to him until later that night, after he'd told his parents all about his new friend, and after he'd laid in bed, but just as he began drifting off to sleep the perfect name for their friend came to mind. The name fit so well, Steve had to laugh out loud.

Two-Bit.

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**A/N: **So there's the first chapter. It's shorter than the next ones may be, but the next part couldn't afford to be broken down at all. Hope you liked it! Updates will be sporadic, so hang in there. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! It's been cool to see some new names commenting on my stuff. Glad you're enjoying it thus far. One thing, a song that I think really compliments this well and I didn't even realize it is _When We Were Younger_ by You Me At Six. Check it out.

Great news on the other story fronts! Seems that I've been able to rediscover all of my previously deleted docs(: Which means _My Darkest_ _Days _was just completed and I'm still kind of toying around with _Life After You_. There's also a minor Dally story in thought process along with a longer Steve story lol. Lots of ideas! Thanks for your continued patience!

Read on!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

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**Age Eleven**

Steve sat by the hospital bed, holding his mother's emaciated hand and humming softly to her; it was all that soothed her restless moving anymore. She'd been diagnosed with the cancer back in May and barely three months later, she was here in the hospital. No one would say it to him, but Steve was no fool. He knew she was dying from the moment they admitted her.

The door opened with a creak and Tom reappeared, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a hot chocolate in the other. Without a word, he handed the hot chocolate to Steve and took his place on the other side of Sarah. Countless days and nights had been spent like this - her family surrounding her and trying to coax her out of the hole she was falling deeper and deeper into. Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Why couldn't she just get better already?

Glancing up, Steve tried to catch his father's gaze. For some reason, since his mother was brought in, he'd noticed the way his dad refused to look him in the eye. Why? He couldn't possibly blame Steve for this ... could he?

As if he heard his son's thoughts, Tom cleared his throat gruffly. "You uh, you hungry?"

Steve simply shrugged, still seeing the way that his dad looked everywhere _but_ at him. "Nah. I'm okay."

Tom nodded and left it at that. Sighing again, Steve slumped back in his chair and set his mother's hand down gently on the bed. Her once shiny, dark brown hair now hung listlessly about her face. The glowing skin that lit up her face was dull and ashen. The changes in her scared Steve something awful, but he couldn't say that. He had to be strong for his mother and Steve was starting to realize he had to be strong for his father, too.

"Stevie?" Her broken voice tore through the awkward silence and drew two pairs of eyes to her face.

"Yeah, Mama? I'm right here," Steve whispered, leaning forward again so she could see him.

Her eyes traveled over his face and a weary smile broke out on her chapped lips. "Sweetheart, you've been so good for me. I want you to promise me somethin'. Can you do that?"

"Sure, Ma. 'Course I can."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and for a moment, Steve thought she'd fallen back asleep. But with a raspy breath, she spoke.

"I want you to promise me you'll take care of your daddy. He's gonna need you, baby. I know you can do that for me, can't you? No matter what happens, sweetie. Please, take care of him." She spoke with an urgency that startled Steve and her gaze was intensely locked on his.

Across from him, Steve heard his father try to speak, but Steve ignored him. He had no attention for anything but his mother. Something told him that this conversation would ease his mom's fears and somehow, release her. Steve didn't want her to live in this pain anymore.

With a deep breath, he nodded. "Of course, Ma. I promise, I'll take real good care of Dad."

She smiled and for a moment, she looked like the mother he'd grown up with. In one whoosh though, all of the color and life seemed to rush out of her and she sank into her pillow, breathing shallowly.

"I love you, Stevie. I'll always love you," she whispered so softly, Steve barely caught it.

"I love you too, Mama."

Tom bent forward and kissed his wife's forehead, whispering gently to her words Steve would never hear. With one final glance and a tired smile, Steve watched her draw her last breath and then, she was still. His mother died with the sun shining through the window. It was so silent, so eerily empty in that room. Everything felt so wrong. He stared at his mother's body, but she wasn't there. Where did she go? Why did God take her from him? He'd been a good kid ... it wasn't like he deserved this kind of punishment.

A racking sob startled Steve and he finally realized that his father had just watched his wife die. He was clinging to her limp hand, begging her to open her eyes just one more time. Steve felt something wet on his face and noticed that he was crying, too. Everything was just so wrong. His mom wasn't supposed to leave them. Not now. Not _ever_.

Slowly, Steve stood and backed towards the door, unsure what to do. The door swung open just before he reached it and a somber looking nurse came in. She gave him a sad smile and walked over to his devastated father, puttinig a gentle hand on his back and speaking softly and slowly to him. Steve couldn't hear her and he didn't really care to.

What did it matter? His mother just left before his very eyes and softly spoken condolences would do nothing for her. Not anymore.

ooooo

It was just a month after his mother was buried that it happened for the first time. Steve almost didn't comprehend it. One minute, he had been asking his father why he had stumbled over the footstool. Next thing he knew, Steve was on the floor, a glaring pain shooting through his jaw. With wide eyes, Steve stared up at his father.

He'd just punched him.

It was the first time Tom had ever laid a hand on his son and neither was sure how to react. Bleary eyed and unsteady, Tom shifted his weight clumsily and muttered an offhand apology. Steve simply nodded and watched the man he'd always respected blunder his way down the hall. When the door slammed and signified he was alone, Steve shoved off ofthe floor and darted out of the front door. He wasn't anywhere near as fast as he wished he could be, but he was going to run under he couldn't breathe anymore.

A few minutes later, his lungs on the verge of collapsing, Steve fell to the ground beneath the giant oak tree in the park. Wheezing, tears streamed down his face and Steve silently cursed himself for crying. If there was anything his father hated more than whining, it was tears. It meant he was weak and Steve wasn't weak.

A throb went through his jaw and Steve rubbed it gingerly. His father had clearly been drunk and oblivious to what was happening, but that didn't change what had happened. His dad had hit him. For the first time in Steve's life, he didn't know who the man in his house was anymore. His mother's death had changed them both, sure. But things with his father had slowly sunk further and further down. He'd never expected this though.

Not in a million years.

Picking himself off of the ground, Steve scrubbed his face with the crook of his elbow. There would be no evidence of his tears and he'd be sure of it. No one needed to know what had happened or how it had affected him. Steve turned in the direction of the Curtis' home and started meandering there slowly, kicking at a rock with the toe of his sneakers. His mother had been close friends with Mrs. Curtis, so he knew he'd be okay to go there. Not to mention Sodapop was his buddy. It wasn't like he was unwelcome there.

Steve sighed and glanced upward, hoping fiercely that this latest issue with his father wasn't a sign of things to come.

XxX

**Age Twelve**

Steve sat on the curb outside of the grocery market, glumly scuffing the toe of his shoe. He'd been browsing the soda section a bit too long it seemed and the manager had taken it upon himself to kick Steve out in front of the entire store. It wasn't like he was going to steal anything. He had the money for a drink; it had just been so long since he'd bought one, he forgot all of the flavors out.

"Jerk," Steve muttered gloomily.

"Hey, you know any good places to grab a pack of smokes?"

The voice caught him by surprise and Steve glanced up to see who it belonged to. Standing in front of him was a boy that looked to be around his age, but a whole lot tougher. He wore a thin, denim jacket and faded blue jeans. The boy had icy blue eyes and almost white blond hair and Steve knew the kid wasn't from Tulsa. He would have remembered a distinct looking kid like that if he'd seen him around before.

"You don't look old enough to buy no cigs," Steve retorted smartly, rising from his place on the curb.

The blond smirked and crossed his arms. "True. That isn't exactly any of your business, now is it _kid_? Not that I planned on buyin' 'em anyways."

Steve grumbled a response and cocked his head towards the store. "This place is the easiest to snatch some from. My buddy does it all the time. Watch out for Roswell though. He's the owner and he's pissed off already."

"Oh yeah? What's got his panties bunched?"

"Me. I was 'loitering' or somethin'. Just wanted a damn soda," Steve mumbled, feeling his surliness come back strongly.

The other boy nodded his head thoughtfully before heading inside without another word. Steve watched him go inside, but figured he'd better clear out of the way before trouble started. He had a feeling that kid wasn't joking about lifting a pack of smokes and Steve knew that Old Man Roswell would be sure to point a blaming finger in his direction. His dad didn't need any more ammunition for swinging at him, so Steve walked down the sidewalk, kicking a rock as he went.

"Hey, kid. Hey!"

Turning around, Steve saw the blond boy walking towards him with his hands jammed deep in his jacket pockets. He's got guts, Steve thought admiringly as he slowed his gait so the other boy could catch up.

"You lift your cigs?"

The boy smirked again and threw something to Steve, who caught it reflexively. Glancing at what the boy gave him, Steve saw he was holding a Coca-Cola bottle. Looking back at the blond boy, Steve smiled. "Hey, thanks. You didn't hafta steal nothin' for me."

He shrugged. "I know that. Ain't no big deal. Don't start cryin' or nothin'."

Steve scoffed. "Don't you worry none. I don't cry."

The boys walked down the sidewalk in silence before curiosity got the best of Steve. "Where'd you come from, anyhow?"

Barking out a laugh, the boy replied, "New York. Name's Dallas Winston."

"Your name's Dallas, but you're from New York? Don't make too much sense if you ask me."

"Listen here, wise-ass," Dallas started in, until he saw Steve holding up his hands in defense.

"I was just kiddin' man. I'm Steve Randle."

The boys shook hands before silently giving each other the one over. When Steve decided that Dallas made an acceptable companion and Dallas seemed to do the same, they carried on with their walk, chatting quietly. Neither had much to say and that suited them just fine. It was the first time Steve had met someone with the same dry sense of humor he had along with the lack of needing to talk all of the time.

He could tell they'd get along just fine.

XxX

**Age Thirteen**

It was the second month of seventh grade and Steve slouched near his locker, glaring at a couple of passing rich kids. They returned the looks and kept on walking, snickering as they did so. Steve hadn't needed much exposure to them to realize the Socs were no good. Kids on that side of town brought nothing but trouble with them and Steve did his best to avoid it. He didn't need anymore trouble than what he got into on his own.

As Steve scanned the hallway for Soda, his eyes landed on a girl he'd never seen around before. She was chatting animatedly with a couple blonde girls, one he'd seen hanging around with Dally. He couldn't take his eyes off of the brunette though. Her laugh carried through the hallway and before Steve could meander over to talk to her, the two Socs that had passed him by stopped in front of her. Of course, he thoughts, disappointed. A girl like her _would_ like guys like that. She looked too good to be true, anyways.

"What's up, Stevie?"

Soda appeared beside him and followed his gaze across the hall to where the girls were. As Steve watched, the brunette looked angry and turned away from one of the Socs. Just before Steve turned his attention to his friend, he saw the Soc grab the girl's arm and spin her back towards him. Without realizing it, Steve made his way across the hall, cutting through the crowd with ease. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder and glared with as much hate as he could.

"The hell you think you're doin' here, grease?" The boy sneered at him and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Ya ain't 'sposed to put your hands on a girl, you idiot. Or didn't your daddy ever teach you that," Steve retorted, spitting the words at the other kid.

Steve stayed silent as the Soc sized him up, bracing himself for the fight he thought was inevitable. Instead, the other kid seemed keen on talking.

"What's it to you, kid? She your girl or somethin'?"

Behind him, Steve saw the brunette roll her eyes before tapping the Soc. "Excuse me, _bud_. I think I can speak for myself, thanks."

Taken aback, the Soc stared at her as if he'd never seen a girl talk before. Steve smirked and crossed his arms in imitation of the other boy. He could tell the girl was just getting warmed up and he was going to enjoy the show.

"For your information, he is _not_ my boyfriend and neither are you. Next time you put your hands on me like that, not only will I scream so loud your ears'll bleed, but I might just slap you. So get off your high horse and get outta my way, okay? Thank you," she finished, smirking smartly at the stunned Soc.

He turned on his heel and stormed off, his friend hooting about being embarassed by a girl the entire way down the hall. Steve let out a few snickers, feeling pretty good about himself. Turning his attention back to the girl, he felt his smile slip when he realized she had turned her glare in his direction.

"You got a name, sweetheart?"

Startled, she shut her mouth promptly before giving him the once over. One of her friends smirked and answered Steve's question. "Sure she does. Don't you _Evie_?"

"Shut your mouth, Sylvia," she hissed, swatting at her friends arm. "Fine. Evelyn Knight. Not that it's any of your business ... what'd you say _your_ name was?"

He smiled. "Steve Randle."

"Well Steve Randle, while I appreciated your attempt at bein' a gentleman, I didn't need your help. I'm perfectly able to handle myself, thank you very much. So if you don't mind, I will be going." Evie knocked her shoulder against Steve's firmly and walked past him without a second glance, her friends trailing behind.

Steve stood with his mouth wide open, staring after the smartass girl that had just told him what she thought of his attempt to help. He'd never encountered such an independent girl and for the first time, he was speechless.

Sidling up beside him, Soda shook his head slowly and chuckled, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Glory, Steve, you sure know how to make a girl mad."

Steve scowled and glanced once more in the direction of the retreating girl. He could see the way her head shook angrily as she spoke to her friends, sending her dark brown curls shaking. As he watched, her eyes darted over to him once more and he saw them widen in surprise. She'd caught him staring and didn't seem to take too kindly to it. With a firm glare, she turned on her heel and stormed out of sight.

Sighing, Steve replied, "Guess so. I dunno man, I still think she felt somethin' though. Didn't you see the way she was lookin' at me?"

"You mean that glare? Or maybe you were talkin' about that clearly disgusted voice she used. Yeah, Stevie, I think she felt somethin' alright."

Steve ignored his laughing friend and headed down the hallway to class. There was something about that girl that caught his eye and regardless of her reaction, Steve had a feeling that wouldn't be the last encounter he had with Evelyn Knight.

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**A/N:**Thanks for reading(:


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Holy wow...I didn't expect to see so many people reviewing this! Thank you all(: It's a relief to see so many Steve fans out there haha. Poor, underappreciated guy. Hope you all continue to enjoy this.

I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been having massive writer's block with this stuff and just a lot has been going on. Excuses, excuses, I know. And you probably don't care lol. But here's the next chapter and I hope it makes up for the wait(:

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

* * *

**Age Thirteen**

"Shit, man. I dunno about this." Steve glanced over his shoulder uncertainly, checking for signs of any unwanted eyes.

"C'mon, Randle. Either you got the balls for it or you don't. Ain't no skin off my nose," Tim Shepard drawled, a hard smirk on his face.

Steve sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and rubbed his hands nervously. He'd seen Dally hanging out with the oldest Shepard and his friends and wanted to be considered a "cool hood" too. Anything he could do to fit in, Steve was willing to do. He didn't want to be the pussy down the street that no one wanted to be friends with.

"Well are ya gonna go, or ain't ya?" Jed McKay spat, his lips pulled back over his yellow teeth in a fierce sneer.

"'Course I am. I came here to do it and I'm gonna." Steve hoped he sounded more sure than he was.

He walked into the corner store and made his way to the back, rubbing his hands constantly. The guys had told him that in order to hang out with them, he had to prove he had balls. He had to do something gutsy. Something big.

Something illegal.

The task seemed simple enough – go into the corner store and steal the most valuable pocket knife they had to sell. Simple, right? That's what Steve had thought, until he realized just what store Tim had picked out for him to rip off. It was owned by Mick Davis, one of the meanest old men on this side of town.

Not only that, but Mick was good pals with the chief of police. This meant that all of the members of the squad liked to drop by and hang out now and then. And of course, Tim made sure that there would be cops that afternoon. Why had he _not_ expected that?

The men up front chuckled loudly and went on with their story about some hoodlums down by the river that had set fire to an abandoned warehouse. Steve peeked around the corner and sized up the situation. Three or four policemen were standing to the right of the counter, drinking their coffee and chatting it up with Mick. The store owner was behind the counter, perched on his barstool.

The pocket knives were right there on the display counter. Quickly, Steve counted how much cash he had. Coming up with just enough, he planned his attack carefully. He'd buy a pack of gum and while Mick was fiddling with the change, he'd swipe the knife. The cops seemed to be chatting amongst themselves anyways, so odds were in his favor.

Now was his chance.

With a deep breath, Steve made his way towards the counter. The men looked up at his approach and Mick eyed him warily while the others turned their attention back to their story. So far, so good.

"What d'you want, kid?"

"J-just this gum, sir." Steve handed him the pack of Chiclets and waited with bated breath for the old man to glance down, his hand already hovering over the blades.

Mick's beady eyes studied Steve for a moment before he turned to the cash register, grabbing the change out. It was just enough time for Steve to clumsily grab the blade and drop it to his other hand, slipping it into his pocket with a shiver of adrenaline. When the old man gave him his change, Steve actually smiled.

"Thank you, sir."

He turned on his heel and headed out of the store, popping a piece of gum in his mouth as he did so. Blood pumped through his veins and Steve felt like giggling excitedly. He'd just stolen that knife right out from under Mick's nose! Steve never thought it would feel so exciting to do something bad. He felt pretty damn good.

Turning the corner into the alley where the boys were waiting, Steve stopped and cocked his head. Tim and the other boys stared expectantly, not a word being said. Finally, Steve pulled the knife out of his pocket with a grin.

"This good enough for you guys?"

"Steve? Hey!"

Whipping his head around, Steve saw none other than Ponyboy Curtis crossing the street and waving wildly. He'd never been too fond of Soda's little brother, but the kid seemed determined to change his mind. Whenever Steve was around their house, Ponyboy would try to hang out with him and Soda. It wasn't that the kid was too annoying or anything, but ever since he came around, Soda seemed to like spending time with Ponyboy more than Steve- something that didn't set well with him.

"Ponyboy? What're you doin' here," Steve groaned, trying to ignore the snickers from the older boys behind him.

Smiling, the youngest boy shrugged. "Well I was just comin' down since my mom gave me some change to buy me a comic book. What are you doin' here, Steve? Who are they?"

Ponyboy finally seemed to notice the other boys behind Steve and fell silent, looking extremely uncomfortable. He'd never been much of a talker when it came to people he didn't know and it made Steve smirk.

"Pony, this is Tim Shepard and some of his friends. Guys, this is Soda's kid brother."

Tim opened his mouth to speak, but a loud argument nearby startled them all into silence. As they listened, Steve felt his blood turn to ice.

It was Mick. He knew the blade had been lifted.

Suddenly, the alley was empty except for Ponyboy and Steve. Tim and his goons split the second they realized what was happening. Steve swore under his breath and felt his heart start racing. What do I do? I can't get caught with this! My mom would be so disappointed. My dad will kill me.

Panicking, Steve's eyes landed on the only other person there and a wild idea struck. "Ponyboy! I need you to do me a favor, okay?"

The youngster's eyes lit up and he nodded. "Sure thing, Steve. What d'you want me to do?"

Steve slapped the stolen knife down in Pony's hand and shoved him away. "Put that in your pocket and don't show it to anyone, okay? Just keep it in your pocket!"

Turning, Steve hid in the shadows behind a dumpster, telling himself that he did the best thing he could. Mick had seen him in the store, so he'd be looking for him first. They'd never think to collar a kid like Ponyboy. He'd be safe. They'd both get off the hook real nice and easy.

Ponyboy stood stock still, eyes wide open and jaw dropped with the blade still in his outstretched hand. Desperately, Steve waved at him to put it away, but Ponyboy couldn't seem to move. Before Steve could get back over to him, the angry voices got closer and then the police stepped into full view.

Mick's gaze landed on the only kid in sight and his beady eyes narrowed as he pointed at Ponyboy. "There! That's my knife! You, boy! You filthy little thief."

One of the cops gripped Ponyboy's upper arm and told him to hand over the knife. Still stunned, Pony did as he was asked without saying a word, but tears starting to silently stream down his face.

"How old are you, son," one of the cops thought to ask.

He sniffled before whispering, "T-ten."

"What's your name?"

"P-ponyboy C-c-curtis."

"Alright, kid. Let's go see what your parents have to say about all of this."

The group of adults with Ponyboy in tow left, leaving Steve in the dark of the alley way silently cursing the world. Why had he given the kid the blade? He shouldn't have been so stupid. Ponyboy wouldn't know what to do with it. Of course he wouldn't! And now, instead of both being in the clear, they were both in deep shit.

"It can't get any worse," Steve mumbled, dusting himself off before walking in the direction of the Curtis house.

The least he could do was apologize to Ponyboy.

ooooo

"Steve James Randle, get in here. Now."

Cringing, Steve glanced at his best friend sitting on the porch a few seats away from him. Soda's brown eyes were dark and he shook his head slowly. They hadn't spoken since Steve showed up, but with a cop car already parked outside of the Curtis home, he had a feeling things weren't going to get any better for him.

And judging from the rage in Mrs. Curtis' voice, the bad was only just beginning.

"I'm sorry, Sodapop," he whispered as he stood, trudging his way to the screen door.

Soda remained silent behind him, staring intensely off into the distance. It was one of the few times Steve had seen his friend so angry and it killed him to know that Soda was angry at him. He'd really have to work to make this right with his buddy.

Inside the living room, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis waited for him. Their expressions were hard to read, but Mrs. Curtis stared at him with such an intense disappointment, Steve silently wished she would just slap him and get it over with. He couldn't stand to see that kind of sadness on her face and know he was the reason. She'd been like a mother to him since his own died and he'd never wanted to let her down.

And now he had.

"Sit down, Steve," Mr. Curtis commanded, already seated in his dark blue rocker.

Steve gently perched himself on the couch, staring at everything but Mrs. Curtis. He listened as she paced the room, building her momentum up for whatever she was about to unleash on him.

"Steve, I am _very_ disappointed in you right now. I can't believe you would do something so stupid and so risky. And on top of it all, you put my son in jeopardy. You put what you stole in his hands because you knew he would take it. Didn't you?"

Not trusting himself to speak, he settled for nodding. He wouldn't cry. Not now. But he sure as hell felt like it. And she was just getting started.

"What in God's name persuaded you to pull a stunt like this? I can't believe you. Your mother did not raise you to behave like this. Do you know how disappointed she would be? You stole from a store, Steve. Why would you even do something like that? And don't you dare tell me you don't know why."

For the first time, Steve raised his gaze to Mrs. Curtis' face and felt his heart shatter. Her bright smile was nowhere in sight and the normally warm, loving brown eyes were hardened and sad. Was it worth it? Was being friends with a guy like Tim worth all of it?

"I was jus' … I wanted to impress a guy. He had some buddies and they told me I had to show I got guts. I gotta do somethin' big. I didn't wanna steal it, but it was their idea." Steve trailed off, realizing how foolish he sounded.

"And who's paying for their idea now, Steve," she asked, crossing her arms in frustration. "Those other boys certainly had no problem leaving you behind to take the heat, now did they? Was that worth it? I don't think those are the types of friends you want in your life. But the same thing could be said about how you set up Ponyboy, now couldn't it? You left him holding the knife while you ran away. He did not do anything wrong, Steve. He's in his room crying right now, trying to figure out why you would do something like that and why he had to ride home with the police. Do you want to explain it to him? Since it was your plan to begin with?"

No words came to him and Steve simply shook his head, fixing his eyes on the floor. How could he have been so stupid? Stealing a knife didn't make him cool. He shouldn't have to prove he was cool to them anyways. They weren't real buddies of his. How could he not have seen it? This whole mess was his fault.

But it was really the kid's fault, a voice in his head piped up.

Frowning, Steve thought about that. If Pony had just pocketed the knife, Mick and the fuzz would never have guessed he had it. And it didn't sound like he'd kept his mouth shut too good, either. He was the reason Steve was getting lectured right now. The cops wouldn't have held it against a ten year old the way they would Steve. Stupid little snot.

"I hope that knife was worth it, Steve. I'm extremely disappointed right now."

"Yes ma'am. A-are you gonna call my old man?" Fear struck Steve at the thought of what his father would do to him.

The adults exchanged a quick glance and Mr. Curtis spoke slowly, weighing his words. "Let's wait and see what goes on now. But if I hear anything, and I mean anything, about you gettin' into nonsense, you and I are gonna have a long chat with your dad. Understood?"

Steve nodded feverishly. He knew that Mr. Curtis understood his relationship with his dad and he really appreciated him keeping it between them.

"You can go now, Steve."

Looking up, Steve tried desperately to find a source of happiness in Mrs. Curtis' gaze. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Curtis. I really, really am."

She sighed and smiled faintly. "I know you are, sweetie. Just don't forget how this all felt and don't you ever do something like this again."

"No, ma'am. I won't."

He quickly left the living room and threw open the door. Soda was gone, presumably with Ponyboy. Of course, he'd be in there drying that snotty kids tears. Probably wipin' his nose too, Steve thought sneering. It was so much easier to just blame Ponyboy for it all rather than take the blame himself. The whole walk home, Steve focused on that – finding ways to twist everything so it wasn't on him.

With every step he took and with every tear that dripped from his cheeks, another ounce of hate dripped into Steve's heart.

XxX

**Age Fourteen**

Steve cleared his throat nervously and glanced around the room. He was going out on his first official date and had gotten to her house a bit too early. Now he was stuck in the awkward "get to know her parents" routine that plagued both those newer to the dating world and the veterans. Steve never expected it to be so damn weird though.

"So, Steve," Mrs. Knight started, smiling warmly at him. "How did you and Evelyn meet?"

He smirked as he remembered their first encounter over a year before and how after that year of persistent badgering, she'd relented into going out on a date with him. "We had a couple of classes together at school, ma'am."

Mr. Knight studied him silently from across the room, not saying much other than a greeting and letting Steve know his daughter would be down shortly. It made him uncomfortable to be under the quiet scrutiny of someone else's father, but he figured if he told him to screw off the old man may not let Evie go to dinner with him. And that wasn't in the plan at all.

"Sorry I took so long." Evie appeared at the end of the hall, with a smirk that clearly said she wasn't sorry at all.

Steve smirked back and stood up. "You ready to get goin'?"

She nodded and glanced at her dad. "I'll be home by nine thirty, okay Daddy?"

It was clear that she had him wrapped around her little finger as the gruff man smiled at his daughter. "Alright. You kids behave, now."

"Yes, sir," Steve replied, nodding at him.

Evie led the way out of the door and once they were down the sidewalk a ways, she burst into laughter. Steve glanced at her inquisitively and she just shook her head, still chuckling to herself. Women, Steve thought.

"Oh, I was just laughin' at you. Gotta admit, watchin' you try and figure out how to act around a girl's parents has to be one of the funniest things I've ever seen."

"Hardy har. I didn't see anything too funny about that, just so you know," he grumbled, rubbing a hand on his jeans uncertainly.

Evie grabbed his hand and squeezed it, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "You know, I was only joking. I thought it was kinda cute."

A smile spread across Steve's face before he could stop it and a strange pride exploded in him. She thought he was cute. Without thinking twice, Steve squeezed her hand gently in reply and they walked on, heading towards the nice little diner nearest to Evie's home. Since neither of them could drive yet and Steve wasn't too keen on asking his dad to be a chaperone, they'd opted to walk to the diner. It was a nice evening for a walk and the conversation never lulled on the way to the diner.

Once inside and seated, the two placed their orders. Evie sipped on her strawberry milkshake with a curious look on her face. If Steve knew anything about girls, he knew that curiosity usually wasn't a good thing.

"So why me?"

Her question caught him completely off guard and Steve spluttered into his Coke. "What?"

Evie grinned and repeated her question. "Why me? Why did you ask me out on this date, out of all of the girls in school?"

He shrugged. "'Cause I figured you were least likely to say no."

"Oh, shut up. I see the way other girls are lookin' at you at school," she said gently.

"Nah, that ain't me. They're all lookin' at Sodapop. It ain't me."

The bitterness in his voice surprised Steve and he dropped his gaze to the drink in front of him. He didn't know where that feeling came from, but he couldn't deny the validity of it. Soda was the charmer. He was the good looking one that got all of the girls. If it wasn't his looks, it was his personality or his goofy ole smile. Steve didn't have any of that. He was surly, his signature look was a scowl and his sense of humor was much more harsh than joking. It was no wonder Soda got the girls.

"Steve, there are a lot of girls that look at you, too. You just don't see 'em. Sometimes ya gotta open your eyes instead of just glarin' with them, you read me? I wouldn't have gone out with you if I thought there was nothin' more to ya than just the grumpy outside. You're a good guy, ya know."

He looked up at her and noticed for the first time just how pretty her eyes were. They were a strange blend of every color he'd seen and he was mesmerized by them. And Evie had a point. She could have said no to him. She didn't _have_ to go on this date, but she still said yes. Evie had _wanted _to go out with him.

"Well how am I doin' so far," he asked, a small smile on his face.

Evie returned it with a smile of her own. "I think we're doin' just fine, so far."

"Me too."

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading this.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Lookie there, a quick update just for all of you amazing reviewers out there(; Thanks a billion for the reads and favorites. You guys made this happen.

_Warning; _This is **not** the happiest of chapters. A lot happens in it. You'll understand when you read it.

Please excuse any typos or errors I may have missed.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

* * *

**Age Sixteen**

"You're full of it, ya know that, Randle," Dally smirked, slugging him in the shoulder as the two walked back to Steve's place.

They'd been having a nice little bull session, both trying to one up the other in their areas of expertise with women. Steve knew he didn't have anything on Dal, but he still liked making shit up and Dally never made fun of him for it. It was their way of hanging out and catching up.

"Whatever, man. Don't be jealous 'cause I get more than you," Steve retorted, sending his friend into loud laughter.

A sudden movement nearby caught Steve's eye and he instinctively tensed. "Who is it?"

"'S just me, guys." Johnny's quiet voice came from behind a bush and as Steve looked closer, he could make out the outline of the smaller boy crouching there.

"Well shit, Johnny. What're you doin' there? C'mere, man. We were just headin' to Steve's to hang out. You can come along," Dal invited, grinning in his buddy's direction.

"N-no, that's okay. I'm just gonna hang around here for a while."

Frowning, Steve pointed out the obvious. "Johnny, you're in a bush. C'mon out."

A sigh sounded within the shrub before their friend emerged slowly, ducking his head. Dally took a sharp breath and it was then that Steve saw the fresh bruises on Johnny's jaw. Damn that old man, he thought ruefully.

"Your old man do that, Johnnycakes," Dal questioned, jaw clenched tightly.

The black haired teen hesitated before nodding slowly. Steve nodded with him and put a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Johnny, why don't you head on over to Ponyboy's? Mrs. C. oughta be there and he can patch you up real good. Then we can have poker night over there instead of my place, alright?"

Dally glanced at Steve inquisitively, but he shook his head slightly. An idea had struck him and he knew that Johnny would tell them not to if he heard the plan. Steve wanted to get him somewhere safe and out of the way so he and Dally could act.

"I dunno, man. They're probably busy and all …"

"Johnny, get your ass to the Curtis' house. We'll drop by in a bit, savvy?"

He looked up at Dal and Steve could see him silently try to figure out what their real motives were. Both boys kept their faces blank and eventually Johnny relented. They watched him round the corner and once he was out of sight, Dally turned to Steve.

"Alright, what the hell are we gonna do about this? I'm gettin' sick of that shit hurtin' Johnny, man."

Steve smirked and pulled out his switchblade. "Yeah, I figured you were. And so am I. What do you say we give his tires a makeover? You know he loves that damn car more than anything else."

An evil looking grin spread across Dally's face and he nodded. It was no secret that Johnny's old man loved his car. It was nothin' special, but for some reason that man babied it and treated it better than any human he came in contact with.

"Well, shit. Why're we still here then?"

The two turned towards the block that Johnny lived on and once they came across his small, run down house, they cautiously looked around. Everything was quiet inside the Cade's home, so Steve darted over to where the car was parked and got to work on the driver side tires while Dally went at it on the passenger side.

Partway through the second tire, Steve was struck by just how badly he wished he could see Cade's face when he realized what they'd done and he was overcome by the urge to laugh. Once he finished with the tire, he grabbed his side and tried to stifle the ridiculous need as Dally stealthily crept around beside him.

"You havin' a tea party over here, Randle," he hissed, rolling his eyes.

"Nah, man. I was just thinkin' how unfair it is we won't get to see the old man's face when he realizes what we done. It's a shame really."

Dally let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "We can't hang around man. He'd flip his lid and then Johnny'd get more shit for it. Let's get outta here. We'll hear him clear across town when he does find out."

And hear him they did.

Later that evening, as they sat on the front porch, Mr. Curtis pulled in the drive as he came home from work. Dally and Steve nodded their heads in greeting and Mr. C. stopped to chat with the boys.

"Guys, how's it hangin'," he called, lumbering across the yard with a wide grin.

Dally returned it with a smirk. "Goin' good, Mr. C."

"Glad to hear it. You boys ain't been makin' too much trouble now have you?"

The two exchanged glances and a pair of devious smirks appeared. "Nah, of course not. Been keepin' our noses clean, just like you asked," Steve replied smoothly.

Mr. Curtis rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and that's not the biggest bunch of bull you boys ever tried to feed."

Dally and Steve held their breath for a moment before the three of them burst out laughing. That was one of the beautiful things about the bond that existed between Mr. Curtis and the boys- he was fun and he knew what being a teenage boy was all about.

"I stopped at the DX on the way home from work and guess who was stormin' in there. Frank Cade. Imagine that, huh? Seems that somebody took it upon themselves to slash his tires. All four of them. He wanted to go to the police, but he said he didn't get a good look at who'd done it. You two wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now would you?"

While Dally grinned proudly, Steve dropped his gaze to his lap. Even though there was a light tone in Mr. Curtis' voice, he could tell he was on a dangerous edge of being in trouble. It was a fine line that he frequently toed, but was terrified to cross with the Curtis parents. He'd been careful not to come too close to trouble since the shoplifting incident, but this was pushing it.

Mr. Curtis glanced over his shoulder towards the house before turning back to the boys, whispering, "Next time, ya oughta cut the brake lines. And take me along. I'd love to give Frank some shit to chew on."

Wide eyed, Steve looked up at the man he saw as a father and stared. He was being serious. They weren't about to get their heads ripped off or handed over, gift-wrapped to the police. Mr. Curtis was _glad_ they did it.

"Sure thing, Mr. C. One question," Dal said quietly. "Why're we whisperin'?"

A bashful grin appeared and he looked towards the house again. "Let's just say _some_ people may not agree with our methods of justice."

"You talkin' about Mrs. C.?"

All they got in response was another grin before he clapped them both on the backs and headed inside. Dally turned to Steve and shook his head slowly in disbelief.

"Did we really just get off that easy?"

"Ya know what, Dal? I think we did."

ooooo

The first heavy snow of the year came late one evening. Steve was curled up in bed with Evie snuggled up to his chest, both under a mound of blankets. It was going to be a cold one, that was for sure. As they lay in silence, listening to the wind pick up speed and the snow hit the window in soft _splats, _the phone started ringing loudly. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, Steve saw that it was nearly one in the morning. Who the hell was calling now?

"Mmm, you gonna get that, Stevie?"

"Nah. Probably some prank caller or some stupid kid," he replied quietly, kissing her head and closing his eyes once more.

But just after the phone stopped ringing, it started up again. The noise seemed to scream out through the house, begging Steve to go and answer it. Evie groaned and turned away from him, indicating he had no choice but to get up. So, he ventured out of bed, hissing as his bare feet touched the chilled floor. Hurrying to the living room, Steve grabbed the phone from it's cradle and jumped onto the couch.

"Hello?"

"S-stevie?"

Suddenly alert, Steve sat up. He'd never heard his best friend cry and if something had Soda calling him at one in the morning, it couldn't be good. "Yeah, Pop. What's wrong? Is everyone alright?"

On the other end, Soda let out a heartwrenching sob and Steve could hear him try to steady himself with deep breaths. "N-n-no. I-it's bad, Steve. R-real bad. M-mom and Dad, they're ... they're ... oh, God."

Steve's stomach felt like it turned to lead, sinking straight to his feet. There was only one thing it could mean and Soda couldn't even bring himself to say it. A creak caught his attention and he saw Evie standing at the end of the hallway, a confused look on her face. He motioned for her to join him and wrapped her close to his body, holding on to the one piece of strength he had at that moment.

"Soda, what happened," he whispered.

"They're dead, Stevie. T-they were in a w-wreck. What do we do, Steve? Oh my God, what are we gonna do," Soda wailed.

The truth hit him like a steam roller and Steve felt his breath gust out of him. They were dead? Gone? The two people that had come to be like a second set of parents to him were suddenly gone? That couldn't be. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were the best people he knew. They couldn't just die. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

"It's okay, Soda. It'll be okay. You've got Darry and you've got Ponyboy and the gang's here too. We're gonna get through it, Pop. I promise you, okay? _I promise_."

He sniffled a bit on the other end of the line, but Steve could hear his crying subside. "We'll get through it," he repeated. "Oh God, Stevie. I gotta tell Ponyboy. How the hell am I supposed to tell him Mom and Dad ain't comin' home?"

Sighing, Steve rubbed his eyes, trying to fight back the burning sensation. "You can do it, Soda. He loves you more'n anything. Just be easy with him and tell him with Darry there. It'll be alright. You want me to come over?"

"Not now. M-maybe later today, okay? Now, we gotta get things in order. We have to figure out what to do now. Thanks though ... we'll be okay, right Stevie?"

"Hey, I promise you that, okay? I ain't never lied to you before and I'm not startin' now. It'll be okay, Sodapop."

Soda sighed. "Thanks."

"I'll see you later on, then."

"Okay, Stevie. Bye."

The line went dead and Steve hung up the receiver, staring blankly at the floor in front of him. Evie touched his arm gently and tried to get him to look up at her, but he just couldn't. The world as they'd known it was never going to be the same. What would happen to Soda and Darry? Ponyboy? He was so young, the state could come in and take him if they wanted. That would kill Soda if they did. Thoughts ran through his mind and Steve gripped his temples hard, pressing in on themselves.

Another set of feet made their way down the hall and his old man stood in his robe, frowning at the two teens. "Who the hell was callin' this time of the mornin'?"

"That was Soda Curtis. His parents ... there was a bad accident, Dad. They're dead." His voice was so flat, so detached that it didn't even sound like his voice. Yet it was and he was speaking the truth.

Beside him, Evie gasped. His father's eyes widened and his frown deepened. "Shit, are you kiddin' me?"

Shaking his head slowly, Steve couldn't speak anymore. What was there to say? Two of the best people he'd ever known were gone and there was nothing anyone could do. Where was the justice in that?

How long he sat there, Steve didn't know. He knew it didn't take long for his dad to go back down to his room or for the quiet crying to start up from behind the closed door. He wasn't sure at what point his own tears started flowing or when Evie wrapped her arms around him and held him like a child, but once the tears started falling he couldn't hold them back. When did life become so damn unfair?

XxX

**Age Seventeen**

Steve and Soda were shooting the breeze as they pulled into the Curtis' driveway when they saw Two-Bit running like a fool down the road towards them. Steve put the car in park and clambered out quickly, knowing that if something had Two-Bit running, it couldn't be good news.

"Hey, Two! Where's the fire," Soda called as he opened the passenger door, grinning at their friend.

"C'mon. It's Johnny."

Those words had a sobering effect and Steve was taking off in pursuit of Two within seconds. The three boys ran without any words, minds racing. Something in Two-Bit's voice scared Steve and he wondered just how bad it would be. Had his old man gone ape again?

As the boys reached the lot, Steve could just make out Dally hovering over something on the ground. No, some_one_.

"Shit."

The trio came upon the scene and the first thing Steve saw was the blood. It was on Johnny's skin, on his clothes, and on the grass. The bright red seemed to cover everything and it mad Steve's stomach turn. He bit his lip though and stifled the groan. Johnny stirred and realized he was surrounded by the guys.

"I-I'm alright," he whispered, trying to push himself up.

"Just lay still, Johnnycakes. Darry's on his way. We'll fix you up just fine," Dally said, his voice more gentle than Steve had ever heard.

"What happened, Johnny," Soda asked, his face torn between concern and anger.

"T-them Socs. They j-jumped me. I didn't know what t-to do." As he spoke, tears leaked from his one unharmed eye and sobs started racking his small frame.

After all of the licking Johnny'd taken from his old man, Steve had never seen him break down and cry until then. It felt like someone punched him in the gut watching the poor guy sob like that. God, why was life so shitty? Soda knelt beside him and pushed his hair back, quietly speaking to him to try and calm him down as Steve clenched and unclenched his fists. Without a word, Dally shoved himself away from the ground and began pacing angrily. It reminded Steve of a caged lion, waiting to rip off the nearest person's head.

"Dal." Steve nodded with his head and pulled his friend aside. Once they were out of earshot, he spoke. "D'you see what happened?"

The blond shook his head angrily. "Nah, man. If I had I woulda killed them fuckers. Did you see what they did to him, man? Johnny. He's never done nothin' to nobody. Why the fuck would they wanna hurt him, man?"

"I dunno, Dal. But you gotta keep it together right now. For him. Johnny needs you, man. Hang in there for him. Then you can go after them. Shit, I'll hunt 'em down for you. Just hold it together for now. You read me?"

The two locked eyes and Dally slowly nodded. Steve knew how angry his friend was and could see it in the tense stance he had taken, but he also knew how bad it would be for Johnny if Dal ran off and got himself in even more trouble. They had to keep their heads on for the time being.

A rumbling noise caught their attention and glancing towards the road, Steve saw Darry's familiar truck pulling up. Thank God, Steve thought. Help had finally arrived.

ooooo

The phone call came and without a second thought, the guys were off and running. After the rumble, Dally and Ponyboy had disappeared off to visit Johnny and then just minutes ago, Pony came home and told the gang that Dallas was going to blow. Johnny was dead and Dal was done. Steve was trying to figure out what it all meant when Darry was hollering about Dally being at the lot and having to hide him. So, now they were all taking off at a dead sprint, trying to save what was left of their friend. If there was anything left to be saved.

Steve took breaths in short wheezes, his busted ribs screaming in agony. But ss they rounded the corner, Steve saw Dally running towards them and the physical pain disappeared. It didn't matter. Even from a distance, Steve knew something was wrong. Something was off. The cop cars came speeding into view and that's when everything seemed to slow down. They were moving in slow motion, but the scene in front of them was in normal time. Dally had lost his mind and he was too damn far away to stop him. Steve's eyes widened as he saw his friend reach into his belt and grab something out. Even before he had it raised in the air, Steve knew what it was. He'd known what it would be since they got the call.

"DALLAS!"

The first gunshot tore through the air as several other followed, shredding the stillness with their force. Steve heard yells and thought wildly that maybe they'd missed him, maybe it wasn't too late. Then Dally crumpled, right under the streetlight. The guns were silent and his friend was still, the only sounds were the steady beats coming from the gang's shoes on the pavement.

They were too late.

A sob tore free from Steve's lips and he started to fall forward, hoping that maybe somehow, his buddy was okay. Maybe Dally just needed a doctor. He just needed some help. Steve could help him. He _had _to. Dally'd helped him. He'd been there for him when Steve's old man was riding his ass. He'd been there for him when he was having girl problems. He'd been there for him outside of that corner store that day he wanted the damn soda.

And now he was gone.

Two hands grabbed Steve's shoulders and pulled him back. "Easy, buddy, easy," Soda said, quietly. "There's nothing we can do now."

No, not now, Steve thought sadly. But if he had only been there when Dally had needed him, like his friend had been there when Steve needed someone. He was a shitty friend and the proof of it was lying on the ground in front of him, a steady stream of crimson red escaping from the wounds in his back.

"I'm sorry, man," he whispered, tears raining down his face.

XxX

**Age Eighteen**

The letter came in the middle of summer – the time of year when you should be carefree and happy. In one postal delivery, all of that was stolen away. Steve sat on the Curtis' porch with his head in his hands. Two-Bit stood nearby, silently smoking. Inside the house came sounds of crying and quiet speaking.

Soda had been drafted.

Steve hadn't felt this helpless since his mother died. It felt like Soda was going to slip away just as easily as she had. With one last breath and one final look, he'd be gone overseas where who the hell knew what would happen. Everything as they knew it was falling apart.

"Shit."

Glancing up, Steve saw exactly what it was that Two-Bit was cursing about. Ponyboy stood inside the gate, staring at them with such an innocent confusion Steve felt like crying. It wasn't right. Their family had been through so damn much, what right did the government have to deal them one more bad hand?

"What's goin' on," Ponyboy asked quietly, glancing between the guys.

Without a word, Two-Bit went inside. Steve figured he was warning the other guys that Pony was home, so he sighed and shook his head slowly.

"You oughta go on inside, Pone."

"He got it, didn't he." It wasn't even a question and the flat tone of his voice struck Steve as he looked up.

Of course Ponyboy would know. He'd always been the smartest one of their group, so it was no surprise that he would put it all together.

Steve nodded. "Go on in, Ponyboy."

He watched as the kid who wasn't such a kid anymore walked slowly inside, a pained expression on his face. Two-Bit appeared back on the porch and watched as Pony silently went inside, looking over to where Steve was standing.

"I'll be back."

Mind going about a million miles a minute, Steve walked over to his waiting car and threw open the door. Behind him, he could hear Two-Bit hollering, but there was no stopping now. If he stopped for even a second, there was no way he would ever be able to go through with it.

The town was a blur as Steve raced to the local recruiter's office and turned the engine off. As he pocketed the keys, he realized just how badly his hand was shaking. But there was no way he'd back down. Not now. He wasn't letting his best friend go over there alone.

Once inside, Steve stepped up to the empty desk, waiting for the man behind the glass to look up.

"Can I help you, son?"

Clearing his throat, Steve said the words he thought he would never utter. "I'm here to enlist, sir."

ooooo

It was in the afternoon on a Tuesday, that much he knew. Their platoon had been engaged in heavy fire with what seemed like thousands of unseen soldiers. Steve wiped his brow wearily and fired off more rounds into the vast greenery. It amazed him that in the short time he'd been deployed, his mind had already switched into killing mode. He killed his first Vietnamese solder one week into his tour and it made him physically sick to his stomach. Now, he was just shooting and praying that he made contact with as many of the enemy as he could.

He'd known the odds of being in the same unit as Soda had been slim, but there had still been that hope. Yet since leaving for 'Nam, Steve hadn't seen or heard any signs of Soda. It both scared and soothed him because if a guy named Sodapop got killed, odds were word would have spread. Right?

In the moments his mind wandered, Steve's lieutenant was hollering out orders. Through the screaming of bullets, Steve heard the command to pull back. Grabbing his gun close to him, Steve darted as quickly as he could into the forest.

But he was never the fastest runner.

A blazing pain erupted just above his left knee and Steve fell to the leafy ground, yelling out. Gritting his teeth, he glanced down to see the damage. A bright red patch of blood was growing steadily larger on the back of his leg and Steve knew he was losing blood fast. Shit, shit, shit.

"Randle! Stay with me, man! You hear me?" Somewhere above him, Steve heard the medic calling for him to open his eyes.

Damnit, my eyes _are_ open, he thought angrily and tried to tell the guy that. No words came out and Steve felt his consciousness drop a bit. He felt the blood leaking through his pants and it was then that Steve realized he was tired. More tired than he had been in a long time. How had he even gotten up that morning, beign this tired? And it wouldn't exactly kill him to take a short nap while the medic patched him up, now would it? So ignoring the yelling medic, he took one deep breath and with a final thought of home, Steve fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I can't believe you guys! Thank you so much. Your reviews all mean the world to me and are what keep me writing. This story is happening because of you.

_There's a poll on my page. Please let me know what you think. Thank ya(:_

Don't forget to review - I know this is an off night for updating, but please don't forget. And finally, please excuse any typos or errors I may have missed.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

* * *

**Age Nineteen**

"God, you sure do got a lotta shit, Two," Steve hollered, dropping the last box on the floor as he looked around.

After his injury and early release from the Army, Steve came home. Though he still walked with a limp and when bad weather was coming he got a bad ache in that knee, he'd escaped with a lot more than most guys. Once back in Tulsa, he and Two-Bit decided that there was no time like the present and went out to buy an apartment.

Or, as Two liked to call it, their bachelor pad. It wasn't the most accurate term for two guys that both had girlfriends, but Steve couldn't seem to get that through his buddy's head.

Two emerged from one of the bedrooms with a broad grin on his face. "Man, ain't this great? We can party it up in here, no worries! And once Sodapop gets home, he can have the third bedroom and all will be right in the world."

Steve had to smirk a bit at that. Everything would be back to normal, just as soon as he got his best friend home safe and sound. Until then, it felt like everyone was walking on eggshells and it set Steve's hair on end. He hated it.

The tension that had been surrounding him since he returned from 'Nam was enough to drive any man to the edge, but he was trying to manage. Steve noticed that he was drinking a bit more than he used to. It was enough to ease the stress though and he'd figured once things settled back down, he'd cut right back.

"Let's go grab some lunch, man. All this movin' has me starvin'," Two-Bit groaned, rubbing his belly to emphasize his point.

"Really? Don't look like it. Shit, I woulda guessed you _gained_ some weight there, buddy," Steve smirked, shoving his way past his friend as he grabbed the car keys.

Two-Bit laughed and shook his head. "It's the girls, man. She keeps feedin' me like this, I'm gonna be fatter'n Santa himself."

Knowing exactly what Two meant, Steve had to laugh himself. Evie liked to cook these big meals for him and he had a feeling she knew that he never got food like that at his place. While he enjoyed it going down, he could tell he was getting even slower when he walked.

"Women. They'll be the end of us," he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Don't I know it. Just wait 'til Soda comes home and we find him a girl. Then the three of us can piss and moan about them."

Laughing, Two-Bit nodded. "Yepp. Just like the old days."

ooooo

It was a Friday. There was no sun in the sky and not a single dry face out of the crowd that showed up. Glancing around, Steve wasn't surprised at the turn out. Not really. He'd always had a lot of friends. Even the people that hadn't known him well still knew him to be a stand up guy and of course now, it looked like all of Tulsa had turned out.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis was killed in action less than a month before his release date. He'd almost been free and clear. Wasn't that the way it always went though, Steve thought bitterly. They would come so close to being safe, to being one step away from danger and then some giant hand came down and crushed their fragile security.

Eyes burning, Steve distracted himself by staring at the countless faces, identifying them all in his mind. Some he didn't recognize, but most he did. The entire Shepard gang had even turned up, dressed in their best clothes. All of Soda's old shop buddies were there along with a fair amount of girls that had once fawned over his best friend. Now, they were all crying, that black shit running down their faces.

A gentle squeeze of his arm brought him back and he looked to Evie standing beside him. Her eyes were red and watery, but she wasn't crying anymore. Soda had been a good friend of hers as well and when they all got the news, not a single person was left untouched.

He'd been at their house that day. Two-Bit, Darry, and Steve were all playing poker. Ponyboy was trying valiantly, but the kid never was good at hiding what he had. His face gave it all away. They were so into their game, they hadn't heard the car doors close outside, or the creak of the top step on their porch. But they did hear the knocking.

No one knocked on the door.

Darry had looked to Steve first, his eyes instantly freezing to two chips of ice. Then he looked at Ponyboy, suddenly resembling a white sheet of paper. Two-Bit was speechless, something that never seemed to happen. Unless it was bad.

The two men on the porch delivered the news with such rehearsed sympathy it made Steve want to throw up. Two-Bit actually did, rushing to the bathroom before losing his lunch. He didn't come out for a while after that, but his sobs were echoed in the house. Ponyboy shoved back from the table and tried to run at the two men, tried to make them take it all back, but Darry caught him in time.

How Darry had even seen the kid coming, Steve would never know. The minute they said the words they'd all been dreading, he saw the big man crumble. The most heartbreaking sob escaped through his lips and tears cascaded down his face. It looked like every bad thing that ever had happened to them was suddenly coming down on him and Darry was done. He'd finally hit his breaking point.

Ponyboy had hit him at a run and was screaming, desperately trying to get to the men that had told him the news. Somehow Darry held him tight, keeping him from escaping and eventually the two just collapsed to the floor, clinging to the last bit of family they had left. Their sobs came together into the saddest sound Steve had ever heard and he wanted nothing more than to run as far from it as possible. But he couldn't. He was frozen.

He stood back and observed it all with a strange sense of detachment. It wasn't really happening – not to him. These weren't his friends. This wasn't his life. Sodapop was his best friend, but he wasn't dead. This was all one of those horrible dreams he'd had all too often and soon he'd wake up. Soon.

But he hadn't woken up. Instead, he stood there until Two-Bit stumbled to the end of the hall with red eyes and a tear-streaked face. Steve became aware that Two was staring at him strangely, but he couldn't bring himself to turn. He couldn't do anything. He felt frozen in time, like it was all a tragic movie he was forced to watch play out in front of him.

"Stevie," Two-Bit muttered, voice cracking. "Steve … you, you okay?"

Silently, Steve turned to his friend and felt it all hit him. Hard. Soda was dead. He was never coming home. There would never be another late night call. There would never be anymore girl talks or big dreams. It was over for his friend. He died alone, somewhere off in a place he'd never seen before, fighting for something he didn't believe in.

It was then that the tears came and once they started, Steve didn't think they would ever stop. And for a long time, they hadn't.

Now they were standing here, next to a large hole in the ground, waiting to bury their best friend and brother. Darry had arranged for Soda to be buried next to their parents and the Army had complied. It was the only comfort they had – knowing he would be able to rest beside his family.

"Stevie, relax. You're gonna hurt yourself," Evie's quiet voice tore through his fixation and he realized she was right.

He'd been digging his fingernails into his palm, nearly drawing blood. Releasing his hand, Steve wrapped his fingers around Evie's, focusing on her warmth. She was here, alive and safe, holding him together. On his other side sat Ponyboy and for the most part, the kid was holding up alright. Steve knew it wasn't real, though. He knew the kid was dying inside without Soda to pull him out of the darkness and he knew Darry was too wrapped up in his own grief to see what was happening to the kid. Gripping Pony's shoulder, Steve remembered the promises he and Soda made before they went over to fight.

Soda had promised Steve to take care of Evie if anything should happen and Steve had promised to watch out for Darry and Pone. He'd rather cut off his own leg than let his buddy down, especially now. Steve would be the best damn friend they'd ever had.

"You doin' ok, Pone?"

He glanced up at Steve and the distance in his eyes scared him. "Yeah. 'M alright."

"You need anything, kid, and I fuckin' mean _anything_ you can come to me, alright? I mean it. You got that?" Emotions started to overwhelm him and Steve began to choke on his words, tears blurring his vision.

Yet he could still see Pony's face clearly and saw the shine of tears bright in his eyes. He nodded once and then grabbed Steve in the tightest hug possible, Steve returning it with his own strength. The two boys held onto one another, each remembering what was lost before pulling back. He tried desperately to reign in the emotions that were welling up inside him, but as the service began, Steve found he couldn't contain it. Tears poured steadily down his face and beside him, Evie sniffed quietly.

It was time to say goodbye.

XxX

**Age Twenty Three**

Steve sat the empty bottle on the table next to him, cringing when it knocked an already empty one onto the floor with a loud shattering noise. That made seven. He'd been drinking steadily since dinner and had no intentions of slowing down now. For the first time all day, he felt alright. As a matter of fact, he felt damn good. Down in the bedroom, he heard the door open and sighed. It was probably _her_ coming out to lecture him about his drinking. _Again_.

He and Evie had moved in together not long after they'd turned twenty and it had been good in the beginning. They'd gotten a nice little house on the outside of town and were fixing it up just right. Evie had been there for him every night that he needed her after they'd buried Soda and he had been there for her when her parents split up, her mother leaving town. It had been real good.

Then the drinking picked up. His nightmares were returning in full force and in order to ward them off, Steve started drinking. It was just one or two to take the edge off of things, but then it took another to do the trick. Then another. Soon, he was spending almost all day hitting the bottles and nothing else. He lost his job at the DX, dropped out of school, and depended on Evie's minimum wage paycheck. The fairytale life was far from perfect, they'd soon realized.

"Did you break another damn lamp," she hissed, coming into the living room to survey the damage.

"No, I did not. Don't you start in on me, damnit. I was just havin' a - "

"A drink, I know. Jesus, Steve when are you _not _havin' a drink? When are you gonna get off of your ass and get back out there, huh? I'm not supporting your drunk ass for the rest of your life, if that's what you're thinking."

Anger roared inside him and Steve unsteadily rose, shouting, "Just shut up, will ya? I don't need you houndin' me every damn day! I'll get another fuckin' job!"

She reeled around and glared at him, her voice rising past the point of a yell. "Don't you dare start yelling at me! I've dealt with your shit here for three years. Three years, Steve! I've been patient, I've been there for you. I've dealt with every goddamn binge you've gone on, so don't you point the finger at me here!"

"Oh, you think I just decided to start drinkin' like this one day? Well damn, it ain't exactly a secret what made me start drinkin', Eve, but you sure as hell haven't made me wanna stop! You come home and all you do is bitch at me! 'Clean the house', 'Get a job', 'Stop drinkin' when I'm home'. Ya know what? I'm not havin' it. I'm a grown man and I can make my own damn decisions!"

"You haven't made a decision on your own since they buried Soda four years ago!"

She crossed the unspoken line between the two of them and without thinking, Steve whirled around and drove his fist through the drywall. Behind him, Evie was silent and both of them stayed that way for a few moments, breathing heavily. Their fights had never gotten that loud or that bad and now that it had happened, Steve wasn't sure what to do.

Turning slowly around, he looked at her blankly in an effort to size her up. Her eyes had glazed over and she shook her head slowly before calmly walking back down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind her. He knew he oughta go down the hall after her and beg her to stay, but it wouldn't do anything. Evie had always been independent and strong willed, something Steve had loved for the longest time. Now it scared him. He had no idea what she was down there doing, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be good for him.

Unsure what else to do, he grabbed another beer from the kitchen and sat back in his chair, sipping it slowly as he listened for signs of what she was doing. There wasn't much noise and for a while, he thought she'd just fallen asleep down there. Then the door creaked open and he heard her coming towards him, something else making a scraping noise behind her.

Evie stood in front of him, a suitcase behind her and a bag over her arm. She'd been packing her things up, he realized. She was walking out on him. Every line he could have thought of to convince her otherwise, to make her put down the bag and stay, disappeared from his mind.

"I'm done, Steve. I hope to God you get your shit together and realize what you're doing. I oughta tell you, you're turning into your father. The man you hate so damn much - you're becoming him. And unless you snap out of it and grow up, we're gonna be buryin' you next. Goodbye, Steve." All of it was said in a quiet, measured voice and before he could form a coherent response, she was gone.

The bottle in his hand suddenly seemed so heavy, filled with the guilt and the choices he'd made in pushing away the one person left that loved him regardless of his flaws. She was gone and it was his fault.

"Fuck!" He threw the half full bottle with as much force as he could, watching it shatter against the opposite wall with a grim satisfaction.

She was right, he _was_ becoming his father. He couldn't let that happen. Steve didn't want that to happen. He'd prove her wrong and then she'd see. Then she'd remember why she ever loved him in the first place. He'd show her.

ooooo

The tree was up and bright, gifts were wrapped beneath it, and the music was on loud. It was Christmas time. Two-Bit's mother and eighteen-year-old sister, Bonnie, had taken it upon themselves to throw the boys a proper Christmas every year since Soda had died and this year was no different. The guys were all together, smiling and passing the ham around on the platter. Steve's old man had even dropped by that year. Steve had extra reason to smile tonight as it was his eighth month sober.

It had taken him a week after Evie walked out for him to get his shit in gear and he checked himself in to a Veteran' Rehabiliation program. The trip had been long and there were some bumps along the way, but he'd made it out and was standing on his own two feet. Now, he had to start putting back the pieces of the life he'd so thoughtlessly torn apart.

He fixed and repainted the living room in his house, covering the signs of the mistakes he had made. And things with the guys were getting back to normal as well. Two-Bit and Steve were fixing their strained friendship while Steve was renewing his promise to be there for Ponyboy. The kid was already a genius, but when he was off and doing so well at college, it was hard to _not_ be proud of him. Steve found himself bragging about how smart Pony was to guys in his classes at the community college he was attending. Maybe that's what Soda was always doing, he thought on one occassion. Maybe he was just so damn proud of the kid, he _couldn't _shut up about him.

"Alright guys, let's go open some presents," Darry declared, grinning broadly at his friends.

Sitting beside Darry was his wife of three years, Anna, who was pregnant with their first child. He'd never seen Darry looking so content and even though they all wished he could be there to celebrate, they knew Soda was somewhere out there, thrilled that Darry'd finally gotten himself a girl. Glancing across the table, Steve noticed how Ponyboy and Bonnie were quietly chatting on their own, the undeniable smile on Pony's face. When Steve caught his eye, he gave Pony an approving smirk and Ponyboy grinned in return. Glory that kid was growing up fast.

The party moved to the living room and as the presents were all dished out, Elvis started crooning on the radio. Of course Two-Bit had to warble along, sending them all into uncontrolled laughter, but Steve's felt slightly strained. Everything about this Christmas was great - the people, the decorations, the reasons to celebrate. Yet there was an empty place beside him and it hurt Steve to think about the fact that it was the first Christmas in almost ten years that he hadn't spent with Evie.

He'd called her place at the beginning of November, hoping to sit down and chat with her. Evie's father told Steve that she had gone off with some friends and was going to college in Texas for the next year. Steve had hung up without another word. The knowledge that she was so far away had hit him hard and if he'd ever wanted a drink, that was the time. But he didn't touch the bottle. Instead, he focused on fixing things around the house that had always bothered her - the chipped paint in their kitchen, the squeaky stair on the front porch. That way, _when _he got her back, she wouldn't think he'd just been sitting around. He'd been doing things that he hoped would make her want to stay.

"Here, Pone. This is from me and Steve." Darry's statement caught his attention and Steve had to smile.

Down at the new mechanic shop that Steve was working at, they'd had a rusted old beater sitting out back. No one had wanted to put in the work on it, but Steve found it helpful to keep his mind off the booze. When money started running a bit short, he'd called Darry and explained his plan. So with a little financial help and a lot of hard work, the car was finally finished and they were going to give it to Ponyboy as a gift. The kid had been sharing Darry's truck, an arrangement that neither of them were too thrilled with. Steve couldn't wait to see Ponyboy's face when he opened the box containing the keys.

Pony cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Steve with a grin. "Size of this box ... you didn't get me ring, now didya, Steve?"

Laughing he threw a pillow at the smart alec. "You caught me, kid. Just open it."

The paper was carefully pulled off and he stared at the box for a minute before prying it open. Steve grinned as his eyes widened and a hopeful smile appeared on his face. "Guys, what's this for?"

"Ask Steve," Darry said, grinning.

"It's your own car, Pone. Nothin' new or fancy or nothin'. Me an' Darry been puttin' in some money and time though and it oughta run just fine for you," Steve said, trying to hide the pride in his voice. He'd done good work and he knew it.

"You guys got me a _car_? I don't even know what to say!"

"No problem. Just don't scratch it." Steve smirked.

Ponyboy laughed before getting up and wrapping Darry in a one-armed hug. He turned to Steve and with a confident grin, gave him a hug of his own. They certainly had come a long way from where they'd started, Steve thought happily. Soda would be proud.

"Thanks, Steve," Pony muttered as he pulled away, beaming at him.

"Hey, like I said, it wasn't nothin'. I'll take you to see it after while if you'd like."

"Sure!"

Opening presents resumed and Steve settled back into the depths of the couch, smiling and sipping his coffee. Things were finally starting to feel right again. It could just be that he always loved Christmas, but he knew it was a more than that. Their friends were starting to come back together, new families were forming, and new beginnings were underway. Hopefully one day and one day soon, that special young lady would come back to Tulsa and he could show her just how right things were.

* * *

**A/N: **Soooo I know some of you may hate me now and that's really okay. As long as I evoked an emotion from you, then I'm doing my job. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think, please. Don't forget to check out my poll. Thanks a million.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Please excuse any typos or errors that I may have missed.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns _The Outsiders._

* * *

**Age Twenty Five**

Steve sat behind his desk, finishing the paperwork for the day. After being hired in at the newer and bigger mechanic in town, he'd been quickly promoted and was now the manager of the store. It gave him a sense of pride to know that he was responsible for an entire business.

With the extra money, Steve was still working to fix up the house and try to save some money as well. It had been nearly two years since he'd seen Evie and even though with every day that passed the odds of her returning went down, he still had that hope. When she'd walked out on him, she'd asked him to clean up. She wouldn't have said that if she hadn't cared. Right?

She just _had_ to come back. Steve had tried dating around in the meantime and while he'd met a couple of really nice girls. They just hadn't been her. He hadn't been on a date in about five months and he knew if Soda was still around, he would have dragged his sorry ass to a bar and made him have a good time.

Damned if he didn't miss his buddy at times like that. Rubbing his face, Steve let his minder wander to easier times. He remembered shooting the breeze with Dallas – each of them trying to one up the other with their bullshit stories. He remembered staying out until way past curfew with Soda, just chatting. They would talk about everything from family to women to where they wanted to go.

The bell over the front door of the shop rang softly, catching Steve's attention. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly five minutes to closing and wondered who just had to come in now. Probably some old hag wanting her engine looked at, he thought grumpily. Rounding the corner, Steve plastered on his company smile and looked up.

Standing in front of him was the last person he'd expected to see. The short, bob hairstyle was replaced with longer curls. The body that he'd spent countless night dreaming about was almost exactly the same, just a bit curvier in the right places. The one thing that hadn't changed in the least was his favorite part about her; he had always loved her eyes.

A slight, girlish glint was in them, even now, as they stood in silence. Steve became aware that his mouth was wide open, but couldn't bring himself to close it. He couldn't bring himself to do much of anything, except stare.

Evie shifted her weight and smiled softly. "Hi, Steve."

"Hey, yourself."

She smiled again and looked around the store, taking in the plate with Steve's name on it over the door. "You're a manager, now?"

He looked at the sign and shrugged. "Well, yeah. I got my degree in business an' they figured I'd be good at it, I guess."

"Good for you." She sounded like she meant it and Steve felt a burst of pride.

"Thanks. How've you been, Eve?"

It was her turned to shrug. "Not too bad. Just did a lot of looking, ya know?"

"Yeah, I hear you. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Steve stared at her intensely, searching for any hint or sign of where to go from there. The moment he'd been waiting for had finally come and here he was, completely speechless. Thankfully, she seemed to have more to say than he did.

"I've missed you, Steve."

He had to fight back the smile that threatened to take over and stepped closer to her. "I've missed you, too. I gotta close the place up, but would you like to get somethin' to eat with me? I'll buy."

Her eyes darted down and Steve was reminded strongly of the way she looked just before he kissed her for the first time. "I'd like that."

ooooo

Their wedding was set for October 19 and Steve couldn't believe how the time flew. One day it was June and the next, he was getting ready to get married. As he fidgeted nervously with his suit and tie, the door to his room opened and Ponyboy stuck his head in, grinning.

"Lookin' pretty slick there, Steve. Gotta stop messin' with that tie though. It's gonna fall off if you keep that up." Without waiting to be asked, Pony crossed the room and fixed it himself, making Steve smile.

He'd grown up fast – a lot faster than he ever thought was possible. One day, the kid was still short and scrawny, nose always stuck in a book, and when Steve blinked he'd shot up a foot in height and was looking out at the world like he was ready to go conquer it. The way Ponyboy had grown up so quickly blew his mind and he was honored to have him as his best man.

"You seen her yet," Steve asked quietly, grimacing at the slicked back hairstyle he was sporting. His mother would have loved it.

"Yup, and I'm not tellin' you shit either. You'll see her soon enough. It'll be worth the wait, I promise."

The two guys smiled at one another and there was a quiet knock on the door. Frowning, Ponyboy pulled it open to reveal Steve's father standing in the doorway, tentatively smiling in at his son. There was a woman standing just behind him, fidgeting with her purse.

"Um, I'll let you guys have a minute. I'll go find Two and Darry," Ponyboy said, ducking past the newcomers to disappear into the hallway.

Silence fell between them and Steve took the time to really look at his old man. He was thinner than he remembered, but he looked healthier. There weren't dark circles under his eyes anymore and that old restless look he always had when he'd been hitting the bottle was gone completely.

"Hey, Dad."

The ice was broken and Tom responded with another small smile. "Steve. You, uh, you look real nice. Your mama would be proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad. Um, who is this?" He gestured to the woman behind Tom, who in turn smiled warmly.

"My name's Suzanne Evans. I'm a friend of your fathers. I hope it's alright that I came along, but he talks so much about you and I was so anxious to meet you," her voice was soft and warm, reminding Steve of both Mrs. Curtis and his mother.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." He offered his hand and she wrapped him into a gentle hug.

Steve gave his dad a look as Suzanne quietly excused herself. "I'll leave you two boys to it and go get a seat. It was lovely meetin' you, Steve."

"You too, Ms. Evans."

"Please, call me Suzie." She smiled.

He returned it and nodded. "Alright, Suzie. Thanks for comin' today."

Once she left, his father shifted his weight nervously and Steve had to grin. His old man had a girl. Steve tried to figure out how he really felt about it, but he was genuinely happy. Maybe she'd be good for him and if he was honest, he knew it would make his mom happy to see his old man moving on with life.

"She seems nice, Dad."

Tom gave Steve a grateful smile and made a strange motion, almost as if to hug Steve before backing away at the last minute. Feeling generous, he stepped forward on his own and gave his father one of the first hugs that the two had shared in years. His dad returned it gently and the two men stayed that like for a moment, enjoying the progress that had been made.

With a firm clap on the back, Tom pulled away and grinned. "You ready to get hitched?"

Steve smiled and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be. You think … do you think it'll all work out?"

It surprised Steve to hear the words slip out as he searched for reassurance from his father, but it seemed to surprise Tom even more. He stared at his son long and hard before slowly nodding.

"If anyone can make it work, it'll be you, kiddo."

The door swung open and Two-Bit came stumbling in with Pony behind him, both of them wearing wide grins.

"You two aren't gonna completely mess everything up, now are ya," Steve groaned, a smirk of his own on his face.

"Oh, don't you worry, Stevie," Two said, waving a hand impatiently. "My good buddy, Ponyboy here, was just introducin' me to some of the fine ladies in this establishment. Evie sure does have some good lookin' friends."

Shaking his head, Steve had to laugh. Leave it to Two-Bit to turn anything into a free-for-all with girls. It was no surprise he had yet to settle down with one.

"You almost ready, Steve?" Ponyboy was checking last minute adjustments and stepped back, smiling happily at his friend.

"I'm gonna go find Suzanne. You're makin' your mama real proud today, Steve. Shit, you're makin' me proud too, kid." Tom shuffled his feet nervously before wrapping his son in a one-armed hug before leaving the room.

"Wow," Pony said, staring after the man. "Guess weddings bring out the best in people, huh?"

"Guess so," Steve replied, a slight smile on his face.

"I'll go get in line. Go get 'em, Steve." Two-Bit grinned, crashing into his buddy for a hug.

Then, he was gone and it was just Ponyboy and Steve in the room. Quiet fell between the two of them and Steve nervously fidgeted with his tie again. His mother would love seeing him all dressed up; she had always tried to get him to dress nice as a kid and he'd despised every minute. What he wouldn't give to throw on his old pair of jeans and a good old DX shirt.

"I know that it's the best friend's job to be the best man, and I'm sorry Soda isn't here for you today, Steve. But I know he's real happy for you. And so am I. You've worked hard for this and I hope you and Evie are as happy as you can be. " Ponyboy spoke softly, but his words rang loud in Steve's ears.

"I'm awful glad that you're my best man, Pone. And I mean that. 'Course I'd love for Soda to be standin' up there, too. But he's here. And he's here." For emphasis, Steve patted Ponyboy's chest and smiled at him.

The two hugged each other tightly and Steve said a quick thank you to Soda, wherever he was. He was glad, in a way, that he'd had the opportunity to get to know Ponyboy because they'd become more like brother's than they ever would have otherwise. And it sure as hell made sense to him that Pony would be the one to stand beside him at his wedding.

"So, you ready for the first step? I mean after all, there ain't no goin' back now," Ponyboy teased.

"Shut up, kid. Just remember, I'll be there givin' you just as hard a time as you are now when you finally pop the question to Bonnie." Steve smirked as his friend's face grew red.

Out in the hallway, Steve heard the music start playing and his heart skipped a beat. It was time. Like Pony said, it was the first step towards the rest of his life and for the first time, Steve couldn't wait.

"Let's do it," he said quietly, smiling.

XxX

**Age Twenty Eight**

Wendy Jane Randle was born in the middle of December. Steve couldn't remember ever seeing a human that tiny or that beautiful before, but when he saw the small face peering out of the pink blankets at him, her bright green eyes staring up at him, his entire world changed. She was absolutely perfect.

Evie smiled tiredly up at him and kissed Steve softly. "She's so beautiful, Steve."

He couldn't even speak, so he settled for nodding and staring intently into his daughter's big eyes. Daughter. That word was so new and foreign to him, yet it seemed to right. She was his own, a tiny portion of him that would grow and flourish into a young woman. It all blew his mind as he stared down at the beautiful bundle in his wife's arms.

"You wanna hold her?"

Startled, Steve initially started to say no. He was afraid. Wendy was so small and fragile looking, he was afraid he would hurt her and somehow destroy the beautiful life he had helped create. Yet as Evie gently held her out to him and he took her in his arms for the first time, Steve had never felt a sensation more right than holding his little girl.

"Hello, Wendy," he crooned. "I'm your daddy. I love you so very much, baby. Your mama and I are gonna love you and make you the happiest little girl in the entire world. We love you, Wendy."

The tiny girl in his arms squirmed a bit, but her green eyes never left her father's face. Steve was mesmerized, staring back at her. He had never felt something so wonderful or pure before, but how that his baby girl was finally here, he knew he would never love another girl as much as he loved Wendy.

XxX

**Age Thirty One**

Three-year-old Wendy rode her tricycle up and down the driveway, her curly brown pigtails streaming behind her as Steve watched her from the porch. Evie came outside, cuddling their newborn son, Patrick Austin. Sighing contently, Steve smiled. His life had never seemed more right than it did right then and there.

A horn tooted from the road and Steve waved as Ponyboy and Bonnie pulled in the driveway. Wendy ditched her tricycle and scuttled towards a very pregnant Bonnie.

"Hey, Pone! Glad you guys could stop by before you left," Steve said, giving his friend a hug.

Bonnie, holding hands with a grinning Wendy, walked up and smiled at them. "Yeah, we couldn't just skip out without seeing you guys."

The women hugged and started cooing over Patrick. Steve already loved his son more than he thought possible and watching the women fuss over him made him happy. He wanted Patrick to have what he didn't have growing up – a mother.

"So, this is it, huh," Steve said, looking at the packed car.

"Yeah, this is it. You sure I'm doin' the right thing? I mean, I could always stay closer to Tulsa. I'm sure there are plenty of writing firms around here that would take me," Pony rambled, nervously rubbing his hands on his jeans.

Ponyboy had submitted some of his writing to a company, not expecting any results. A couple of months later, the phone had rung and he was offered a full time job. The catch was the location; the company was situated in New York. Initially he'd said no, but with Darry and Steve's persuasion, he'd agreed to go.

"Ponyboy, I'll drive y'all there myself. Go. You need to do this."

"But Darry …"

"Will be fine," Steve finished for him. "He's got Anna and his boys, another baby on the way. Between Darrel and Matthew, he has his hands full anyways. Besides, now we got a reason to visit the Big Apple."

He laughed and glanced over his shoulder at Bonnie. "Should we really be movin' when she's pregnant though? Maybe she oughta be close to her mom for that. it's a whole new place."

"Exactly. Ponyboy, everyone always knew you'd be the one to get outta here. Tulsa doesn't have enough for you. New York is just right. You're gonna do great there, kid. And Bonnie will be just fine. Stop worryin'. That's Darry's job."

The two exchanged a laugh as they remembered all the shit they put Superman through. It was no surprise that Darry was a great dad to his two boys and would be exceptional with his third child. He'd had plenty of practice with Soda and Ponyboy. Now, it was time to put all of that hard work to the test and let Pony adventure out.

"You two are gonna come out and visit once we get all settled, right," Bonnie questioned, wrapping an arm around Ponyboy's waist.

"Better believe it. Shoot, we'll be hittin' the road a couple hours after you guys split," Steve joked, pulling Evie and his son close to him.

"Daddy, wook," Wendy cried from her seat on the porch, holding a giant dandelion.

"I see it, baby. Pretty flower," he replied, smiling.

"Pitty fowie," she replied softly, stroking the petals of the flower.

"You already say bye to Dar?"

Ponyboy nodded. "Yeah, he was the first stop. Your house was the last one on the way outta town."

"Not to mention the fact we couldn't see my brother last," Bonnie added, rolling her eyes. "We never woulda gotten out of there 'til tonight."

Steve had to laugh at that. While they looked a lot alike, Bonnie and Two-Bit couldn't be more different. Though they both liked to talk, she was much more direct in her conversations than he was. It was no surprise she knew not to visit him last.

As Patrick started crying loudly in his mother's arms, Evie quietly excused herself and went inside to get him a bottle. Bonnie followed her, eager to watch and learn any tips that she could use for the future.

"Gonna miss you bein' around, kid," Steve muttered, kicking his shoe on the porch boards.

Ponyboy whistled and cocked an eyebrow. "Wow. Never thought I'd hear those words come outta Steve Randle's mouth."

"Har har," Steve quipped, smirking at his friend.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna miss you, too."

Silence fell between the two and they watched Wendy rolling in the grass, laughing as a butterfly flew by her face. Everything was so much different than it was before and in a few more minutes, it would change once again. Even though he still liked to give him a rough time, Steve was really going to miss having Ponyboy just down the road. Evie and Bonnie had gotten to be good friends over the years as well, so it was just as hard on the girls as it was on them.

Speaking of which, their wives rejoined them on the porch having put Patrick down for his nap. None of them spoke for a minute and then Bonnie was crying, hugging Evie firmly and promising to stay in touch. Ponyboy and Steve respectfully held in their laughs, but refused to look the other in the eye. Women.

"Well, I guess we should get going, Bon," Ponyboy said softly, grabbing her hand.

She sniffed and nodded, wiping away the stray tears. "You're right. I'll call you from wherever we stop tonight."

Wendy clambered up the step and hugged Bonnie's leg. Smiling, Ponyboy lifted her off the ground and kissed her on the cheek.

"You gonna miss your Uncle Pony?"

She nodded and hugged him as tightly as her little arms could manage. "You goin' 'way?"

"Yepp, me and Aunt Bon are gonna go on a trip. You're gonna come see us soon though!"

"Yay!"

He set her down and she darted inside, laughing the whole way. Steve absolutely loved her laugh and had come to realize it could make him smile no matter what else had happened that day. Evie walked Bonnie down to their car, the two of them chatting a mile a minute.

Steve and Ponyboy started making their way down the sidewalk slowly, neither of them finding much to say. It was strange to say goodbye to someone that had lived down the road for as long as Steve could remember. Now, he'd be across the country.

"Well, I guess this is it then," Ponyboy muttered, nervously turning the keys over in his hands.

"Yeah, this is it. You're gonna do great out there, kid," Steve reassured, clapping him on the shoulder.

"I hope so."

Smiling, Steve wrapped him into a hug. "Make me proud, Ponyboy."

Tears brimmed Ponyboy's eyes as they pulled apart and Steve had to blink back his own. With one last watery smile, Ponyboy climbed into the car and Evie stood next to Steve. They silently watched as their friends backed out of the driveway and hesitated in the street. With one final wave, the car rumbled down the street and around the corner out of sight.

"They'll be just fine," Evie said, sniffing as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"You're right," he replied, kissing her head. "And so will we."

The End.

* * *

**A/N: **This story was a lot of fun for me to write and I hope it was enjoyable to read. I was going to continue on up to Steve's death (don't worry, he died a comfortable old man in my mind), but I figured this was the best place to end it rather than stretch it too thin.

To all of my reviewers, I extend my deepest thanks. It means the world for me to see so many new names commenting on my work and hearing all of the things you've had to say about it, good or bad. I love them all. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I think this will be the last thing I do for a little while. I'm kind of playing around with _Life After You_, but that's going to need some tweaking because I feel like the plot lacks direction. Hopefully I still have some reviewers around when I finally get back to updating.

One totally random note, Steve's daughter's name. Lol if any of you made the connection, NO I did not name her after the Peter Pan character's on purpose. I love the name "Wendy" and I used "Jane" after Steve's mother. Just to clear that up for any of you super readers out there(; Oh, and bonus points for anyone that made the other connection with his son's name. We'll see if anyone nails it. And no, not the fact that it's "Patrick" lol:P

Again, thank you so very much. I can't name you all because honestly, so many of you made this story happen. So, clap yourselves on the back. This story was for you.

-Independence Undervalued.


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